Volatile Rum
by Wicked Seraphina
Summary: A young draenei huntress has her first drink during her first visit to Booty Bay, bought for her by the first Forsaken she had ever met. Was it the rum, or was it fate...?


**_- Author's Note -_**

_I wrote this all in one night. The sheer amount of typos and grammatical errors is probably incredible._

_Oh well._

_Enjoy, I hope. I'm going to bed. x.x_

Ausha yawned, neglecting to open her eyes for a few moments more as a feeling of utter contentedness washed through her. Smiling to herself, she stretched luxuriously, only to swiftly wince. Naaru, she was _sore_. In fact, as she woke up more, the draenei became aware of the pounding headache threatening to split her horned skull in two.

Not thinking, she opened her eyes.

Immediately, the tiny shafts of light that filtered through the wooden walls stabbed at Ausha's eyes like spears, so she shut them tightly. Goblin footsteps sounded in the hallway outside of her room, greeting her pointed ears like the detonations of gnomish explosives.

_I'm _must _be dying,_ Ausha thought, whimpering pathetically. She'd never felt so horrible, so unclean, in all her life.

That sensation of meaningless happiness had vanished entirely by then, leaving her troubled and very unsettled. She pressed her palm to her aching forehead and groaned, memories of the evening before coming back to her little by little...

* * *

"Welcome to Booty Bay," cried Raelena Moondance triumphantly.

The trip to the seaport had been long, hot and bloody. Ausha didn't think that there were so many cats in the world as there seemed to be in just one square mile of the jungle. And the two hunters had been attacked by every single one of the damn things. The upside was that the duo's bags were filled with fine leather and furs, and the both of them could practically hear the gold clinking into their purses. Still, both had broke into a happy run at seeing the fish-jaw entrance to the the city. Said sprint had absolutely nothing to do with the crazed posse of white gorillas that followed in hot pursuit.

They wouldn't have outrun the apes had not a group of several Horde men come thundering up the path to Booty Bay, hooting merrily as they swung their swords and polearms from the backs of hulking raptors, armored wolves, screeching hawkstriders, and even a fiery skeletal horse. Most of the gorillas were felled with one strike, the remaining beasts fleeing in terror.

The hunters had to dive off of the road in order to avoid being ran over by the savage mounts of their unwitting saviors. Upon seeing the two Alliance girls sprawled in the dust, a burst of lewd catcalls and boorish whistles errupted from the men.

"I don't blame them," laughed Ausha as they finally rode away, leaving the two to dust themselves off. "With nothing to look at but orc women and blood elf walking-sticks to keep them company, we're probably the first _real_ women they've seen in weeks!"

Raelena commented that they probably just noticed that Ausha was horny. ("Get it, Ausha? Horny! And you've got horns! Get it?!") The draenei had heard such remarks so often that she just ignored the night elf until she finally dropped it.

Ausha gazed over the pirate town curiously. The smell of fish and ale had assaulted her nose the second she'd stepped out of the wooden corridor, as had the sounds of various footsteps, both Alliance and Horde, pounding over the planks as they hurried along to wherever they were going. Members of both factions brushed shoulders as they passed eachother, not bothering to glare, even murmering apologies.

"Isn't it great?" Ausha's adopted sister and travelling companion, Raelena, grinned widely. The night elf moved to stand before the rope railing, folding her arms over her chest and looking over the port with pride, as if she ruled over it all.

"Smells simply putrid," noted Ausha snarkily, trotting to her friend's side. But the draenei was smiling, her interest shining through her brightly glowing eyes. "I've never seen anything like it. The Horde and us usually can't run past eachother without stopping to spit and make nasty remarks about the other's heritage."

"Both sides of the coin gather here," Raelena mused aloud, smiling wistfully. She had never been a supporter of the war, even going so far as to rebuke the name of the Alliance in the Trade Quarter of Stormwind. She had been literally dragged from the stone roads and thrown into the pond in the Valley of Heroes, but hadn't been phased. _Nothing_ phased the elf. She continued, "At night in the tavern they even lift flagons with eachother." She sighed. "Pretty damn close to paradise."

"Paradise reeks, then."

"Psh," huffed Raelena, shaking her loose violet hair and looping her arm through her taller friend's. "C'mon, Aush. We don't exactly smell like a pair of daffodils, ourselves," she snickered, motioning to the dust, sweat and blood that covered Ausha's usually spotless leather tunic. The draenei grinned, and the companions strode deeper into the city, arm in arm.

Shooting simultaneous glares at the goblin buccaneers that hollared salacious suggestions their way (though both secretly were weirdly flattered), the girls stopped to peer inside one of the market buildings. They sold their hard-earned loot and leather before letting themselves browse the bazaare. One of the merchants was a bearded man with a managerie of parrots perched on wooden stands behind him. He smiled invitingly at them, as much as he did to anyone who walked his way, and jabbered relentlessly on and on about how marvelously intelligent and sweet the feathered critters were. Raelena had turned her attention to an impressive array of arrows on display near the bowyer, much to the bird vendor's dismay. So he turned the full force of his salesman charisma on Ausha, who was already charmed by the fluffing cheeks and vibrant plumes. She was tempted so greatly that she counted her gold and silver pieces, even though she was certain that she had no money to spare.

Sighing, Ausha forced herself to turn away. As she did so, she caught sight of a shadowy figure lurking near the far exit. Her skin broke out in shivers, a sure sign that whoever the person was, it was watching her.

She blinked, starting to narrow her eyes in a way she hoped was forbidding.

But the shadow had disappeared... or dissolved away into its fellow darkness...

Ausha jumped when Raelena reached out and grabbed her shoulder, yanking her around to show her "the straightest arrows I've ever seen, Ausha!"

The draenei quickly forgot the unseen stranger as the bowyer launched into her own speech. Yes, these were the straightest arrows you'd ever find. Yes, she'd made them herself. Yes, she was the bloody arrow goddess.

Ausha had bought a bundle of arrows just to shut the woman up. She really did need them, though. She'd depleted more that half of her stock on the way from Duskwood.

Their bags empty and quivers full, Ausha and Raelena walked along the boardwalks toward the inn, relishing the thought of a bath and clean clothes.

-----------------------

"Lace me up, Ausha!"

Ausha wasn't listening. She stood before the mirror in their room for the night, staring at her reflection, noting that she looked like a doe caught in a dwarven hunter's crosshairs.

"AUSH!" And a hairbrush collided with her shoulder.

"Alright, I'm on it!" Ausha turned to tie up the back of her friend's dress, which was a lovely shade of emerald hemmed in royal purple. It looked divine on the night elf, but then, everything looked divine on a night elf.

"You'll have a lot of fun, Ausha, you'll see," she said, smiling at the draenei's reflection in the mirror. "You've just got to loosen up! I know the Horde guys look all intimidating, but they're just guys. Not very different from Alliance ones at all."

"Sure, Miss World Peace," grumbled Ausha, though her heart was beating against her ribs like a caged sparrow. "How do you expect me to loosen up when I'm sitting next to a bunch of corpse eaters?"

"The Darkspears stopped practicing cannibalism years ago, Miss History Flunk-out!" Snapped back Raelena, shaking her head. "I know you'd rather sit up here by yourself, Aush, but you gotta come with me. We do everything together."

Ausha smiled back. It was true. When the Exodar had crashed, Ausha had struggled to her hooves to see the stunned night elf girl, who had apparently been stalking a stag before it had been squashed flat by a bit of the broken ship. Raelena had gaped at Ausha. Ausha had passed out. They'd been sisters ever since.

"I know, and that's why I'm all dressed up," the draenei said warmly, preening her friend's vivid hair admiringly. "So I can go brave the brutes to hang out with you."

" 'Dressed up'?" Raelena snorted, spinning around (mostly to feel her dress twirl prettily around her) and eying Ausha critically. The draenei was clad in a loose, long-sleeved periwinkle tunic, dark blue leggings and black thigh-high boots. "You're dressed up for a day at the market, yes-- but we're here to have fun! To flirt! To be noticed! Ausha, you look so ordinary!"

Ausha rolled her eyes and put on an annoyed face, even as her fingers self-consciously touched to the black belt circling her waist over the long blouse. _I always look plain next to you, Raelena_, she thought inwardly. "Oh please, Rael," she snapped aloud. "I'm not here to make a spectacle of myself!"

The night elf gave her a "what am I supposed to do with you" glance before catching her friend's arm up in hers and wandering down the stairs into the common room, promising they'd have a good time.

Raelena strode directly up to the bar and called sweetly for a glass of white wine. Ausha opted for a mug of spiced moonberry cider, much to Raelena's teasing. The two settled down at the only empty table, occupying two of the five chairs. They chatted about various things, from politics to fashions, Raelena breaking eye contact to shoot subtle inviting looks in the directions of whatever males walked through the door. Especially the Horde men, Ausha noticed. That was very like the night elf. If it was taboo, she wanted to do it. This included flirting with the sworn enemies of your nation.

Ausha did not hate the Horde, but she wasn't necessarily pro-Horde either. The Horde made her nervous. She was, after all, new to the world of Azeroth, and she'd only just gotten accustomed to the faces of dwarves and the freakish smallness of gnomes!

Ausha was pondering these things when an orc plunked heavily into the chair next to Ausha, grinning widely. Ausha was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of teeth he possessed. "Hey, pretty," rumbled the orc in perfect common. "How're you tonight?"

"Just lovely," purred Raelena in that perfectly awful voice she adopted whenever she flirted.

"I can see that," replied the orc, leering at the night elf's low-cut neckline. "I'm Oghram. What can I have the pleasure of calling you, missy?"

"Whatever you want to call me, Oghram," Raelena responded, resting her chin on her hand femininely, her eyes sparkling.

Ausha tuned out their pointless words by the time the apple-green haired troll sat down next to the orc. She looked around the room dully, drumming her nails on her untouched mug of cider. She flushed when an enormous black tauren winked in her direction after she'd accidentally made eye contact with him, and quickly looked away, only to lock eyes with a devastatingly beautiful blood elf. The elflord smiled lazily as a cat at her, and she quickly turned her eyes down onto the scarlet surface of her drink. She was so agitated that she shook, and the juice made tiny waves inside of it's confines...

_What the hell was I thinking, coming down here?_

"A typical reaction, I assure you," came a rasping, low voice from just behind her.

For the second time that night, Ausha jumped, sloshing hot juice onto her hand. Stifling a curse, she shook her hand to rid it of the sticky liquid, shooting a glare over her shoulder at whoever was so rude as to sneak up and scare her.

Whatever words she planned to spout flew from her mind on wings of fear.

The eyes that gazed levelly back at hers were ghoulishly bright and dandelion yellow. The face that housed them was unnaturally white, almost blue. Thin lips were bloodless, fading to black where the skin joined the flesh inside of his mouth. Worst of all, there were gaping chasms of rot on either side of his wasted face, grotesquely emphasizing his high cheekbones. A few strands of long, dark purple hair strayed from beneath his black hood, framing the left side of his nightmarish visage raggedly.

Ausha could do nothing but stare.

The Forsaken man continued easily, in spite of her clearly petrified state. "I refer to this being your first visit to the grandness that is Booty Bay." Sarcasm practically dripped from his tongue, which Ausha noticed, almost nauseated, wasn't pink at all, but blue-gray.

Then she blinked, trying to fight away her fear of this undead stranger. "How.. how did you know that this is the first time I've been here?"

He gave a lop-sided grin (_Even his _gums_ are black! _Ausha observed), settling down into the chair beside her, his bones creaking alarmingly. "M'lady, you look positively petrified."

Ausha stiffened, placing her cloven hooves flat on the floor beneath her and blushing, embarrassed to be so easily read. Her pride wounded, the draenei immediately went on the defense. "Of course I'm a little overwhelmed! I'm hardly accustomed to sharing a table with the likes of the Horde," she spat nastily, glowering sourly at him.

"Of course," he agreed in a murmer, not really hearing what she said. He was too busy studying her face. This only made Ausha more uncomfortable, so she returned her attention to her moonberry juice.

Ausha was perfectly aware that she wasn't the most stunning girl. The ridges on her forhead were more pronounced than most other draenei females, standing up off of her head like tiny blue thorns. Her hooves were too large, her tail too long. Her one vanity was her mane of thick, wavey white hair, currently held back by a periwinkle headband chosen to match her tunic. By no means was she ugly, but next to Raelena, she felt very much like the leopard without rosettes.

"Ah," exclaimed the Forsaken suddenly, rising to his feet. "But I've just the thing." And then he walked away.

As relieved as she was baffled, Ausha looked around the bustling tavern.

The tauren winked again.

Flushing indigo for what felt like the billionth time, Ausha distracted herself with a large gulp of her cider, promptly choking on the now-cold substance.

"The sugars in that juice will only make your nerves worse." And there he was again, plunking a flagon of something foul smelling in front of her. The undead sat at her side once more, sipping on his own mug. "Ahh," he hissed, making a face that was both stung and satisfied. "Yes, this'll do the trick."

"Like I would drink something offered to me by a bloody zombie," snarled Ausha, shoving the cup away irritably.

The undead tsk'd her quietly, smirking at her and watching her from the corners of his eyes as he looked away scornfully. "Such language. Whatever would your mother think."

Ausha just glared at him, ignoring his playful tone.

"Come now," he rolled his eyes, raising a rumpled violet eyebrow at her. "Honestly, your uptight attitude is a dark cloud over this table. What's the matter? Haven't you ever had a drink before?"

"Of course not," sniffed Ausha, lifting her chin.

The Forsaken regarded her with disappointment. "I knew it. You're a priestess."

Ausha's eyes flew open. "What?"

He laughed, a throaty, scratchy sound that would have made her shiver if she weren't so offended. "You've taken some sort of vows that restrict you from the wickedness of indulgence. Am I correct?"

"No!" Ausha thrust her drink onto the tray of a passing barmaid, clenching her freed fists in anger that greatly amused the Forsaken. "I do whatever I please!"

"Then, by all that's unholy, let a gentleman treat you to a drink." He looked at her appealingly. "I only want some decent conversation. You seem like the only civilized being this side of the maelstrom."

Ausha eyed him skeptically for a few moments. Met by nothing but his bland, glowing stare, she sighed and wrapped her fingers around his peace offering, venturing a taste. She wrinkled her nose and gagged, coughing into her palm.

He fought a smile, folding his half-decayed arms on the table before him and laughing quietly. "What do you think of it?"

"Euch!" was all she could manage between coughs.

He nodded, sipping his own drink. "Give it time. It tends to kill off your sense of taste effectively after the first few mouthfuls." He lifted his glass to his cold lips again, hissing an exhale. "So, lady blue, how does Azeroth treat you?"

"Well enough," Ausha wheezed after recovering from her second sip. "The Darnassians are better about us than the humans. I get quite a few unfriendly stares whenever I go to Stormwind. I-- 'lady blue'?"

The undead man shrugged, lifting her arm by the wrist and shaking it, indicating her blue-skinned hand. "I don't know your name. I'm improvising," he explained in his broken voice.

Ausha looked at her wrist once it had been released, and then to him, feeling profound pity. His hand was so cold.

"Aushaedra Valduuni," she said with as much dignity as she could muster, not really believing that she was introducing herself to a corpse, however animated he was.

He bowed his head slightly over his drink. "Miss Valduuni, pleased to meet you." He offered his hand to her politely. "Arakem Dra'Lonn."

Smiling faintly, Ausha shook his hand, not shivering at the touch of the icy bones that made up the claw-like tips of his unusually long fingers. "Mr. Dra'Lonn."

"Oh gods," grumbled Arakem, jerking his hand away and slamming back a pull of his strong drink. "Just Arakem. I just had sudden, unwanted images of my father in my head. ' Mr. Dra'Lonn.' " He shuddered comically.

Ausha snickered. "I'm sorry! You had the 'Miss Valduuni' thing going on, so I went with it! It's your fault!" _Wow, _though Ausha, smiling happily. _This is really... comfortable, actually._

"I feel terrible, then," came the feigned apology.

"You should," she said haughtily, trying hard not to grin.

"Oh, I do," he vowed, his face straight even as his eyes shone with fun.

Ausha laughed, sipping on her drink again. He was right-- it didn't taste so awful anymore. "Alright, Arakem. What're you up to in Booty Bay? You're a little out of its league."

"Am I?" He inquired, tilting his head and smiling thoughtfully. "How do you come to that conclusion?"

"I remember you," she declared, nodding. "You rode in to Booty Bay when Raelena and I were being charged by those monkeys."

"Yes, I remember that. What I mean is why do you think that I'm too powerful to have a place in Booty Bay?"

He was looking at her in an analytical fashion, and Ausha's pride insisted that she impress this man. "You weren't just riding any dead brown horse. It was dressed up in battle armor, and it's hooves were ablaze in black flame. A majestic, if creepy, stallion."

He grinned and lifted his mug to her in a salute. "Very observant. Most people wouldn't notice so much when they're running for their lives."

"Well," she sniffed, smiling smugly. "_I_ am not most people."

"No," he mused softly. "No, you're not." Seeing that Ausha was about to question him, the undead went on. "To answer your prior question, I have no official business here." He shrugged his exposed shoulder bones carelessly. "I came to accompany my guildfellows. They are the ones who have errands here." He nodded his head in the direction of Raelena, who was reclining under the arm of Oghram and laughing that bell-like laugh of hers.

The draenei watched her friend for a while, the night elf totally ignorant of the jealousy and disapproval that stained her friend's face at the same time. "I see," she muttered, taking her third massive gulp hissing afterward, much like Arakem had.

"Easy now, Miss Valduuni," chuckled the Forsaken, reaching out to help her set the mug back on the steady surface of the table. "If you haven't drank before, you might want to go it slow. I feel rather badly for buying you an entire flagon as it is."

The most interesting heat was building in Ausha's chest. She shook her curling bangs from her face and snorted. "You shouldn't have bought me any at all. There has to be some kind of law in the Horde rulebooks that says not to buy your foes drinks."

"Who cares what the rules say?" Arakem waved his hand dismissively. "Sylvanas is crazy old witch who never leaves the Undercity and Thrall is nothing but a has-been adventurer. No power holds sway over my life. I do what I please," he piped in gravelly falsetto, grinning.

Ausha smiled wryly as her words were turned against her. "Admirable," she conceded. "I myself don't think our leaders know where they're going with this war. We're all just so used to battle that we don't know what to do with peace."

"Well said." He nodded approvingly. "We're addicted to the war. It's all we've known."

Ausha stared glumly at her half-empty flagon, sighing. Arakem saw how low she had sunk in a matter of seconds and frowned slightly, noticing the slight flush on her face. A flush not caused by embarrassment. _By the Nether, she's more of a light-weight than I thought._

"I feel funny," she stated in a sad voice, hiccuping.

"No doubt," he grumbled, considering tearing the ditzy night elf away from the orc so she could take her friend up to her room. So much for decent conversation.

And then the draenei was hoisting herself to her hooves. Or trying, at least. And failing miserably, judging by the way she slowly tipped forwards.

Surging to his feet and straightening his hunched spine, Arakem caught the taller girl before she face-planted on the table. "Damn, girl! You certainly weren't jesting about alcohol! Maybe you should take that vow, priestess or no!"

Ausha giggled madly, leaning over the undead and clutching at his shoulderblades to keep her balance. "Whoooops!" She laughed heartily, unaware of how distracting the low decolletage of her tunic was when she was resting the hollow of her chest on the undead man's forhead, giving him a great view down her shirt.

"Ah..come on, now," Arakem grumbled coarsely, rearranging his grip on her so that his arm was around her back, keeping her steady. "Let's get you up to your room. You're going to make an imbecile of yourself."

"Thank you," she smiled, watching in amazement a the floor wobbled crazily under her black hooves. "This is actually really fun. I should do this more often."

"Rethink that," he snapped, thoroughly unnerved and totally distracted. He had to get rid of this girl before she did more stupid things, causing him to do stupid things. Stupid things he hadn't thought of like this since he had been alive. _Damn, how long _has _it been since...? _As soon as they reached the top of the stairs, Arakem waited for her to point out which room was hers.

The answer was not forthcoming. All he got was a few pets on his chest and a innocent mutter of "You're robes are really soft."

He cleared his throat. "Which room is yours, Miss Valduuni?"

"Uhm..." The draenei's large, bright blue eyes peered up and down the hall thoughtfully. "Hmm. I don't remember."

"Of course you don't."

Arakem considered his options. He could dump her in the hallway and let her roam around the inn, drunk as a dwarf on his birthing day. The more he considered that option, the more he didn't like it. It'd be easy for him, sure, but she'd probably wind up in some lecherous man's bed within the hour, whether she wanted to or not. True, he was not the most upstanding and moral of men. He'd lived his life holy-- why should he want to live his unlife the same way? Still, he didn't want to see the girl hurt.

So, after much debate, he deposited the girl on the bed in his own room, arranging for himself a makeshift bed on the floor. The girl lay sprawled, tittering.

"I'm serious, though," she was giggling. "I haven't danced s--..since before we left Draenor. I dunno if I can even still do it."

"Tragic," grumbed Arakem, not really listening as he unrolled his bedroll, annoyed that he'd have to sleep on the thing. He only used it for when he had to sleep outside, and it was filthy. He'd been longing for a clean bed for days. Because he was dead, he actually didn't_ have _to sleep at all-- but it was a habit he was fond of. He'd just rather do it on soft, clean linen sheets...

"Watch, Arakem!"

Rolling his eyes, Arakem looked up from his kneeling position. Then his eyes widened.

Aushaedra had clambered to her hooves and regained her balance with some effort, and had begun to dance. It wasn't the drunken, flailing dancing he had been expecting. No, it was slow, fluid, rhythmic-- he could hear the music in his head. Deep drums and lilting flutes. The firelight gave her long body unnatural radiance as her hips swayed and her head tossed, her eyes closed and arms raised. It was like she had put herself in a trance. Arakem watched the long curls dance around her small waist, caressing her softly, and he felt sudden, incredible fire. Berating himself, he tore his eyes away, only to watch the curvy shadow writhing upon the wall.

"Oops!"

Arakem grunted as Aushaedra toppled over onto him, giggling sweetly. "My bad," she breathed apologetically, pushing herself off of him so that she layed on her back before the mouth of the fireplace.

The Forsaken pushed himself up and looked down at her even as he told himself he shouldn't. Her hair was turned lustrous gold-white by the light, her tunic pulled down so that he could see a decent portion of her chest.

Standing suddenly, he yanked the girl up by her feet. She came up, and then almost came down, rubbing her soft body against his sharply angled one. Twisting his face up in frustration, he threw her onto the bed and stood still, breathing hard even though he didn't need to, trying to reign himself in. Trying to figure out whether he wanted to reign himself in.

Aushaedra wasn't too drunk to sense his battle, for she propped herself up and peeked up at him through her long, snow white eyelashes, which cast lengthy shadows down her cheeks. "Arakem..?"

He shivered and closed his eyes.

"..Arakem?"

His eyes snapped open. He fell his knees on the bed, leaned over her, and claimed her lips with a his own. She was drunk, but hell. She was beautiful, and she was lying on his bed.

After all, he'd lived his life holy. Why bother with holiness in unlife when he was already damned?

* * *

Ausha lay absolutely still, swallowing. She was afraid to move, to stretch out her arms. If she did, she'd know for sure if it had been a dream, or a reality. Her body ached horribly, testifying to her what the truth was. Opening her eyes, ignoring the agony the sunlight dealed to her tender skull, she pushed herself up onto her elbows. And noticed the half-rotten arm draped around her naked waist.

"Good morning, Aushaedra," came a mutely laughing, gurgling voice.

Gasping, Ausha bolted up, wincing as her exhausted legs protested with wild jabs of pain. Arakem laid on the bed, the covers pulled over his narrow hips, his arms folded behind his head casually. His naked torso was pale, strangely elongated. And didn't move. He wasn't breathing.

Not breathing.

"Oh.. oh gods," whispered Ausha, pale as a ghost. "I.. we.. we didn't..?"

"I, you, we," he shrugged, his thin, gray lips pulling up in a wicked smile. "Why, yes. We did."

He was looking at Ausha too closely for her taste, which was around when Ausha realized that she was naked as a baby murloc.

Squeaking, Ausha grabbed for her long tunic, which hung carelessly on the corner of the bed.

It had been shed in a hurry.

She blushed from head to hoof, pulling the shirt over her head hastily. She heard the Forsaken chuckle.

"A little late for modisty, don't you think?"

"Shut up!" She roared, clutching her pounding head, tangled white hair wrapping itself around her fingers. "Oh gods! I can't believe I let myself do this!" She began breathing rapidly, and Arakem rolled his eyes.

"Don't hyperventilate," he drawled lazily. "And don't throw a fit. People do this all the time."

"No, _Forsaken_," she snarled, her eyes blazing with furious disgust. "People do not have sex with _monsters_ all the time!"

Arakem swallowed, slowly leaning forward and raking a spindly hand through his long, matted hair. His face had lost all amusement, but showed none of the sudden pain she'd inflicted. He was angry, too. Angry because he had been so gentle with her. Angry because she had been the one begging him to go on. Angry because she had breathed something so very sweet, so wonderful when she'd arched beneath him.

Angry because he'd believed her.

_You're a damned idiot, Mr. Dra'Lonn_, he thought scornfully. _You've only known her a few hours. She was intoxicated. And you used her. Sounds monstrous to me._

He cleared his throat with some difficulty, the plague of undeath constantly filling his throat with vile mucous. Nodding without a reason to, he rose to his feet, joints cracking loudly, and got dressed. The one time he looked at the draenei, she had already scrabbled into her clothes, and had been hugging her arms around her body and shaking, staring at the floor.

"I will.. walk you to your room."

She nodded.

His expression unreadable, he opened the door and waited for her to exit before him.

She just stared at him blankly.

Checking a wince, he sauntered out of the dark bedroom. She followed, her hooves softly clopping on the wooden boards. She found her room immediately, being at the end of the hall just a few rooms down from his. She fished the key out of her pocket, unlocked the door and stepped inside. Arakem stood hunched over in the hall, silent and patient.

He may have only known her for less than a day, but he knew her well enough to know that she was going to run.

Sure enough, she emerged minutes later, clad in the green and brown garb of a huntress. A backpack was slung over her shoulder, various pouches dangling from her belt, as did a long, curved scimitar.

He couldn't help but give a faint smile. She looked much more calm in her armor, like she thought it could protect her from him.

That pain wasn't fading.

Ausha was not shocked when, as they entered into the common room, Arakem's thin body morphed into a purple-black shadow. She remembered him murmering a prayer to some unholy deity when he had pulled off her tunic--

Suddenly nauseated, Ausha told the innkeep to, when he saw Raelena, tell the night elf that she was headed to Darnassus. That Ausha would wait for Raelena there.

When the draenei left the inn, the Forsaken walked by her side like some dark specter. Haunting her. She said nothing, hoping... hoping. She didn't know what for. She didn't know anything. She only knew that she had to get away. Now.

Once they neared the ship to Ratchet, Ausha couldn't stand his presence any longer. Without looking at him, she stated in an emotionless voice,

"I never want to see you again."

Arakem stopped abruptly, wondering at the writhing sensation in his long-dead chest. "Never?" he murmered dazedly.

"Never, ever again." She swallowed, walking on without him until she stood on the boat. Only then, when she felt that something seperated them, could she face him. She looked on him coldly, all ice.

But he could see the lost expression in her eyes, furrowing her brows ever so slightly.

"Are you lying?" He murmered shrewdly, flashing his undeniably charming grin, his hands folded tightly behind his back. He was afraid that they'd shake if he didn't keep them in check.

She shook her head faintly, staring at him. Blank. Then she declared plainly, "You're repulsive."

And the ship launched, picking up speed rapidly. She was long gone by the time that he unscrewed his eyes from where she had been standing minutes ago.

Never.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Aushaedra," he rasped quietly, reaching back to pull his black hood over his head. "I think we shall surely be seeing eachother again." He then turned around, lurking back into Booty Bay's masses, all coming and going, too busy (and more than a little afraid) to greet the unholy priest as he ambled down the boardwalks. If one looked closely enough, they would have seen the slight curl of his chill lips outlined in shadowy black. "Sorry to disappoint."


End file.
